Unexpected (pregnancy) Extras

Maybe I should qualify that title. See, it's not that the these extras were unexpected, it's just that, well, maybe I didn't think they'd really pertain to me. (Or maybe I was hoping they wouldn't.)

Extra #1: Hormones. Now, I honestly don't think that I've had "crazy pregnant woman" moments. I (foolishly) thought that I could get a straight answer about this from my husband; however, due to some of the books that I'm reading (specifically The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy, thanks Dib), I realize that such an answer from Scott might be relative. (Even if I preface the question with a "be honest with me; I won't get upset with you," I don't think he will.) So, I'm still pretty confident that I'm not psychotic one minute and overly emotional the next. Granted, I do tear up at the occasional commercial or maybe the giggles hit me at odd times (like during Bible study last night), but what women doesn't have that happen? Really?

The only time I think I might be that crazy pregnant woman is during school ... on occasion. Take today, for instance. In truth, all went well, and the day was pretty much stress free. Then sixth period happened. Very nice kids... but too social (and at times immature) for their own good. They don't exactly understand how NOT to talk. (So frustrating!) Anyway, we were reviewing their grammar practice, and like most grammarians know, often there's just one correct answer. For instance, when identifying what a participial phrase modifies, one can identify only one word. Well, my students were not getting that, even though I kept repeating that the phrase modifies ONE word, not an additional phrase. *sigh* After about the umpteenth question (so, if they wrote "the blue car" do they receive credit?), I couldn't contain the irritation and annoyance. Was this the psycho pregnant lady? I dunno.

Extra #2: Weight. I know, I know, I've mentioned this before. But the focus this time is slightly different. I admit that I've gained weight (duh!), but I never fully accepted that the weight has to go somewhere. Obviously, I can see that much of it's in the belly; it's the rest of me (as in, what I normally don't see) that surprised me.

Last week I was at the gym (I'm refusing to abstain from exercise, even though it's not keeping me in svelte condition), and I happened to glance at myself in the ridiculously large lockeroom mirrors ... after I had worked out. Oh my! Let me paint you a picture. I was wearing a blue, fitted workout t-shirt that comes to about my waist (translation: it's not a loose t-shirt, but one that wicks away sweat), and a pair of black workout leggings (again, fitted). Well, since they covered my skin, I figured they fit. (Again, just re-read the opening lines of this entry.) So, back to the mirror. I happened to glance at my backside, and what I saw elicited a surprised, "How did THAT happen?" That's it. I had discovered WHERE the weight has been going... and it wasn't pretty. (It's still not pretty a week later.)

After making this discovery, I was tempted to forgo the gym all together, but I figure that the moderate exercise is at leasting keeping the weight gain under control. Plus, I really don't want to gain weight back there too fast. I mean, such a shock to the system takes time to accept.

Of course, I will have to revise some of my outfits. Looks like my long-sleeved t-shirts will now serve as waist definers/ behind disguisers. And in some cases, belly covers (since even my longer t-shirts--non-fitted-- are getting a bit too short).

Ahhh... the extra perks of pregnancy.